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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25115440">Strip Club</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/pseuds/TheEvangelion'>TheEvangelion</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supergirl (TV 2015)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Daddy Dom Lena Luthor, Daddy Lena, Drunk Kara Danvers, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Human Kara, Human Kara Danvers, Kara Is Going To Be Hungover Tomorrow, Stripper Lena Luthor, Strippers &amp; Strip Clubs, Stripping, Useless Lesbians, lesbians in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:20:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,619</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25115440</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/pseuds/TheEvangelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lena has managed to land herself in hot water and wound up on the early weekday shift at the strip club. In the world of stripping, there is only one thing worse than a quiet early shift: a drunk bachelorette party. </p><p>When a lesbian bachelorette party stumbles in blind-drunk, Lena has her mind changed in the best way possible by the pretty blonde in the stupid superhero costume.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kara Danvers &amp; Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>825</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Strip Club</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Prompt from Undeniablydelectable: Alex's bachelorette party with a side of stripper Lena</em>
</p><p> </p><p>There were few things Lena willingly conceded to being anywhere near as terrible as the Wednesday night early shift. A girls’ trip to Helmand Province, that would perhaps be up there on the list, but at least Afghanistan would come with some sense of exhilaration. An empty strip club at six in the evening on a weekday however? It existed as little more than God’s waiting room for the old, ancient, and tight-fisted. It was also the proverbial time-out corner for strippers who, in Lena’s case, had stepped out of bounds.</p><p>The regulars shuffled in on their walkers, all six of them sitting in opposite corners here and there, with nursed beers and a single small stack of ones that were practically clung to for dear life. In fairness, it was all normally very inconsequential to Lena. Andrea would stick the new girls on the graveyard shifts, the ones who were wet behind the ears, and Lena and the others who knew how to hustle would clean up the late night weekend crowds who bussed in from the tourist resorts a few miles west.</p><p>“So what did you do to piss her off this time?” Sam mopped the bar down with a knowing look.</p><p>“Eh,” Lena shrugged it off like it was nothing, juggling her tote and keys as she took a swig of her lime soda. “Nothing time won’t heal. I think me actually having the gall to show up will piss her off more than the crime that wound me up in stripper jail in the first place.” She raised her brows.</p><p>“Nah, you’re a professional, Andrea knows you don’t flake.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, look where my professionalism got me.” Lena gestured around. “Has Mike turned up yet? He always used to be in here on Wednesdays...” She turned and glanced around at the handful of elderly men by the stage, one of whom was already asleep despite the thump-thumping music. “Hey! Maurice! C’mon, you know better than to bring your own booze in here—” Lena pinched the bridge of her nose and felt the headache bloom already.</p><p>“Sorry doll,” Maurice said with a dismissive wave, tightening the flask and stashing it back in his top pocket. “You know how it is, nine dollars for a whiskey coke is expensive. I have little Timmy’s birthday presents to think about.”</p><p>Lena wasn’t sure how old Maurice actually was, he could have said he was a hundred and she would have believed it. Maurice was an odd man, a Danny Devito type, frugal, and yet for as long as she had worked here he was practically part of the furniture. Lena didn’t know how he afforded it but she was sure it had something to do with selling cigarettes, smuggling booze, and being a terrible tipper. Still, Maurice wasn’t too bad, he always told the girls to fuck off sooner rather than later when he wasn’t in the mood for a dance. It wasn’t sweet nothings, but Lena appreciated a little earnesty.</p><p>“You’ve been saying the grandson line for ten fucking years, Maurice. Little Timmy’s got to be old enough to buy a drink in here himself by now.”</p><p>“It’s, it’s the dementia. I get so confused.” Maurice lifted his glass and took a long, hard glug. “Are we at home right now? You look like my fifth wife...”</p><p>“How many times have you been married?” Lena knew exactly what was coming.</p><p>“Oh,” He scratched his balding head and smirked. “Four?”</p><p>“Genius Maurice. I’ve never heard that one before. Have you seen Mike?”</p><p>“Mike with one arm?”</p><p>“Mike with the glasses.”</p><p>“Oh, the old goombah from Brooklyn?”</p><p>“No, the other Mike with the glasses.” Lena tapped her heel impatiently.</p><p>“Oh! Mikey-boy! Nice guy, little weird, used to tip the girls to sit and listen about his wife who had the stroke?”</p><p>“Yes! That Mike! Is he around?”</p><p>“Dead,” Maurice said as though it were nothing and turned back to the stage. “Probably his wife after she recovered from the stroke and saw the chequing account,” he mumbled.</p><p>Sam stifled a snort as she dried the glasses, and when Lena shot her the serious look, the don’t you dare look, that was when she couldn’t help but break a tiny bit too. It had been at least a year since Lena had seen Mike last and now she understood why. He was a good guy, great tipper, never handsy. It was sad, and she was simultaneously over it, stripping wasn’t the place to meet permanent people. It was God’s waiting room, and she was just the nurse who helped bide the time.</p><p>“Well,” Lena huffed at Sam and rubbed the spot where her temples and pristinely pulled-back hair met. “If you need me, I’ll be downstairs reading The Mill On The Floss.”</p><p>“Jeez, George Eliot huh? Try not to squirt everywhere,” Sam muttered under her breath.</p><p>***</p><p>The problem with bachelorette parties wasn’t the shitty pink lady costumes or the drunkenness in and of itself. Men indulged in it and women had every right to get it out of their system too. Lena was fine with that much. No issue there.</p><p>But when she first started, she imagined bachelorette parties would be the best revellers to dance for, that the girls would smell of good skin care, perfume, their soft hands maybe grazing curiously against the side of her knees while they whispered how they had never done anything like this before but were enjoying it way more than they should.</p><p>Needless to say, Lena learned the hard way around that women in strip clubs were genetically closer to coyotes once the first drop of margarita wet their lips. Lena would work the stage, the girls would be out of their seats, and one of three things would then happen:</p><p>Karen the chief-bridesmaid would clamber on stage, blind drunk, usually with her skirt riding up over her ass, bare foot and sweating. The chief-bridesmaid would hurl herself around the pole with all the grace of a reversing dump truck without any tyres on. Lena would tell her to get the fuck down, and by the time she could get back to dancing, the men who had been throwing tips had largely disappeared. Thanks, Karen.</p><p>The girls would woop, holler, and cheer like banshees. Unaware of good strip club etiquette, they would bustle to the front of the stage and push the tipping customers out of the way. Lena would grin and bare it, dance her entire routine, and not one girl out of the twenty would tip a single dollar. Clearly, they had been taking financial management classes from Maurice.</p><p>Three was the worst, and yet it was also the most frequent mistake the bachelorette crowd always made without fail. Lena would dance, spinning on the pole, a few tricks here and there that were crowd pleasers, then she would bounce her ass on the stage and count down from three in her head for the offence to happen. One of the girls would slap her ass, or worse, grab her butt with stiletto nails digging into her skin. That was when she <em>accidentally</em> kicked them in the sternum with her platform heel as she waved the bouncer over. Whoopsie.</p><p>It was an incomplete list, and one that Lena simply didn’t intend on adding to anymore. The sound of bachelorette parties was as distinct as it was cacophonous, and the moment she heard the laughter, the drunken shouting, the sound of Bethany complaining that she wanted to go home while Taylor tried to find Michaela a bathroom to throw up in, that was when she made like a bird and headed downstairs to the dressing room. Lena didn’t have a mortgage or car payments to worry about, she was happy to sit the whole ordeal out. </p><p>And so when the sound of drunk girls being idiots wafted down in screams and disturbed her reading, it was just one more reason to burrow into the lip of her sweater and turn her headphones up to wait it out until they got bored and disappeared.</p><p>“Earth to Lena,” Sam waved in her face after a few minutes.</p><p>“Nope. No fucking way—” Sam pulled her headphones off her ears. “Hey! Give me those back!”</p><p>“There’s only ten-ish of them. Diamond and Sierra didn’t show tonight. It’s just you and Stacey until Laila and Crystal get here and Stacey’s up in VIP. You’re up to bat, book club will just have to wait…”</p><p>“Who did Stacey take to VIP at seven o’clock on a Wednesday?” Lena balked at the absurdity.</p><p>“Maurice.” Sam shrugged. “Maybe he finally felt the heart attack come on and decided he wanted to go out with a bang, I don’t ask questions, I just make sure there’s a girl on stage.”</p><p>Lena sighed. “If any of them look like they’re even <em>thinking </em>about grabbing me,” she said, pointedly.</p><p>“I don’t keep a shotgun behind the bar for nothing.” Sam joked and put the headphones back in her lap. “Put your heels on, take your breastfeeding sweater off, pretty smiles and brainless thoughts.” Sam jokingly pushed up the corners of her mouth with her fingers.</p><p>“The sweater is big and soft. It’s very comfortable…” </p><p>“Yeah, well, it looks like it belongs to your dead husband and you’re not ready to process that trauma — way too big for you.”</p><p>“I know you have at least one more insult about the sweater, please, don’t let me stop you.” Lena couldn’t help but grin as she tugged it off and grabbed her highlighter palette.</p><p>“You look like a baby mouse drowning in a marshmallow.”</p><p>“That’s cute.”</p><p>“It’s very Aileen Wuornos chic.”</p><p>“One more?” Lena turned as she brushed glitter over her decolletage.</p><p>Sam paused and hummed. “Eh, I’m all out. If it’s any consolation about taking that hideous thing off though... there’s a girl upstairs whose just your type.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Lena furrowed her brow.</p><p>“Oh, she’s a real knight in shining armour. Trust me, you’ll spot her.”</p><p>***</p><p>Kara understood she was in a strip club, the thump-thumping music, the neon red lights, the topless girl on the stage, it certainly wasn’t a pottery barn. What Kara didn’t understand was how a spa and wine tasting day at the ocean club turned into a titty bar, or why she was wearing a superhero costume for that matter either. </p><p>One moment she was fairly sober, sipping the wine, swishing and spitting like the instructor explained, and the next Alex was throwing up outside of Party City while Nicole ran up her card inside. The whole group crammed in the back of an Uber minivan, tossing on fancy dress costumes, snorfling chicken nuggets, and somehow they wound up here.</p><p>The world was wobbly and topsy-turvy, spinning and twirling, and Kara worried that if she stood up too fast she would fall back down again. The creature on the stage though… she was the most beautiful thing Kara had ever seen. It was the soft curves of her body, or maybe the way the muscles in her shoulders grew thick and pronounced when she did upside down magic tricks on the pole—whatever it was—Kara knew she was a fool suddenly in love.</p><p>“Go tip her, it’ll be funny,” Alex pushed twenty dollars inside of her clammy palm as the third routine finished. “Ask her if she’s got any K D Lang—”</p><p>“No K D Lang or Indigo Girls I’m afraid.” The stripper appeared out of nowhere, glistening and grinning with the kind of smile that Kara thought might stop her heart. “I’m surprised to see you guys here. We don’t normally get the lesbian ocean club crowd. Well, not the cute little femmes at least.” She winked at Kara.</p><p>“It’s that obvious we’re a lesbian bridal party, huh?” Kara winced and rubbed her bleary face. “I’m Kara, what’s your name?”</p><p>The stripper paused, amused and unable to contain it. She had such a beautiful smile, her teeth were pearly white and when she beamed it lifted her cheeks all the way up to her emerald eyes. Kara felt nauseous, and there was no way to tell if it was the tequila or the butterflies having a little mosh in her belly. Probably both, she thought.</p><p>“My name is Elle,” the stripper said and pushed out her manicured hand. “Haven’t seen you around here before, Kara, is it your first time?” The rest of the table sniggered and snorted at the attention Kara was getting.</p><p>“Don’t mind them,” Kara slurred and waved her hand dismissively. “I’m, I’m not a big drinker usually.” She pouted, her cheeks feeling hot all of a sudden. “Oh, erm, this is for you.” She offered the tip.</p><p>“Customers usually put it in my g-string,” Elle politely explained and pushed her butt in Kara’s direction.</p><p>“I don’t want to objectify you.”</p><p>“We’re consenting adults.”</p><p>“You’re definitely not an abused sex slave?”</p><p>“Nope, they let me out for an hour of sunlight every day and I get all my multivitamins.” Elle smirked at Alex as though they were in on some kind of joke. </p><p>Kara wondered if Alex had mentioned the little crush to the bartender or something, and if that was supposed to be mortifying then Kara only felt excited and flush. She hadn’t been to a strip club before, she didn’t know how it worked, but she knew that the girl was beautiful, and she felt giddy just trying not to look at her.</p><p>“That’s nice,” Kara mumbled and gently tucked the bills inside the dental floss above her ass. “Do you… do you like superheroes? I think I’m supposed to be Superman.” She pointed to the yellow and red emblem on her costume. “They didn’t have the cape so we borrowed some other stuff and made do.”</p><p>“It has to be said, I was wondering why you had a towel tied around your neck.” Elle smoothed her fingers over the fluffy material. “I was worried you might have been chilly.”</p><p>“Improvise, adapt, overcome,” Kara slurred over the music. “It’s my sister’s bachelorette party—” She pointed to Alex, sat there giggling and drunk with her Wonder Woman headband sat crooked.</p><p>“Hi Alex,” Elle purred, accentuated to the point of mockery almost. “You know, when we get bachelor parties in the club it’s tradition that the best man gets a private dance. Whose the chief bridesmaid tonight?” She folded her arms.</p><p>“It me. The chief bridesmaid be me.” Kara lifted her finger and winced into the aftertaste of her tequila shot. “I, I probably shouldn’t though. I—I’m in a relationship.”</p><p>“I won’t tell him if you won’t?” Elle whispered.</p><p> Alex and the others pulled out their purses. “How much to send her to VIP?” Kara felt nauseous at the thought.</p><p>“Champagne service?” Elle queried with an amused grin.</p><p>“I think you already know the answer to that.” Alex shot an exasperated look. “She’s had a little too much to drink… we don’t want to get kicked out early just because the baby gay passed out asleep at the table. Do you have a creche on site?”</p><p>“Well it’s normally forty for a dance in VIP, but how about we call it a hundred and I’ll give you my best babysitting service.” Elle steadied the drunk baby deer suddenly swaying and slumping all over her. “The other girls are here now, it frees me up for the rest of the night.”</p><p>***</p><p>Kara smoothed her palms over the velour sofa she was perched on. The room was tiny and barely-lit, like a broom closet covered ceiling to floor in dark purple crushed velvet. She pouted and pursed her drunk lips, eyes almost rolling in the back of her skull, she was unsure of how she got here, but life was full of happy accidents and so she didn’t ask questions.</p><p>“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” Kara slurred and stopped, determined to sound coherent. “You’re… you’re <em>so</em> pretty, Eve.”</p><p>“It’s Elle.”</p><p>“You’re so pretty Elle,” Kara tried again.</p><p>“You’re the first person to tell me that, ever.” Elle smiled and placed a glass of water on the side table. “Drink, all of it.”</p><p>“It’s not spiked?”</p><p>“You managed that all by yourself,” the stripper laughed and pulled open the sashe on her silk gown. “It’ll help the hangover tomorrow, drink.” She nodded at the glass.</p><p>“Okeys,” Kara humphed and did as she was told.</p><p>When the song began to play, the silk gown came off slowly, hips swaying, fingers traipsing along her sides as though every inch of her skin was a specific spot to be adored in and of itself. Kara was inclined to agree, utterly entranced and unable to snatch her eyes away for a second.</p><p>“No please don’t—” Kara said urgently as Elle began to turn around. “I, I like your shoulders. They’re so strong. Can I look at them a little longer?”</p><p>“You don’t want to see my tits? I’ll pretend not to be offended.”</p><p>“I’m just not there yet.” Kara pouted and exhaled a tiny drunk breath. “Your shoulders are wonderful, a few more minutes?”</p><p>“Wholesome,” Elle laughed slightly and made the muscles in her shoulders and back ripple for the drunk little idiot. It earned a dumbfounded moan, and that made her giggle. “Or not,” she said.</p><p>“Can I touch?”</p><p>“Where exactly?”</p><p>“Just your back, it’s very muscley.”</p><p>‘If the bouncer sees he’ll kick your ass...” Kara didn’t know if she was joking, but she decided to take the risk.</p><p>She smoothed her fingers quickly and softly, as though she were stealing the touch of her skin from right out underneath her nose. Elle sat on her lap, ass grinding into her hips, hands grabbing her knees, filthy and precise in every movement. It was nice but Kara… she just wanted to run fingers across her shoulders and stare at them a bit longer.</p><p>“How much exactly did you have to drink?” Elle asked over her shoulder, red lips pushing and pulling with amusement. “It was cute at first, but we should get you home to bed safe and sound.”</p><p>“I lost my keys,” Kara pouted and closed her eyes. She opened them again, suddenly realising she couldn’t remember where she lived. “I think my keys are the least of my problems…”</p><p>“I’m getting off early tonight. Wednesdays are a headache in and of themselves, and then I found out the only weekday regular who actually tipped like he respected my time—” Elle stopped and sighed. “I’m getting off early, I’ll take you home.”</p><p>“You... you only just met me,” Kara inhaled and didn’t understand how this could be happening, the girl was <em>so</em> beautiful. “I… I shouldn’t. I’m, I’m—” The vomit came up so quickly that there was absolutely no stopping it, she pushed the girl off her lap and hurled between her braced knees.</p><p>“Shit,” Elle gasped and gently gathered Kara’s hair up and off her face. “Oh sweetie. Oh no, it’s okay. Oh honey, don’t worry let’s get you cleaned up and put you to bed. The joke isn’t funny anymore.”</p><p>“What’s… what’s not funny anymore?” Kara slurred, barely fighting off the urge to pass out.</p><p>***</p><p>By the time she cleaned the room, cleaned herself off, and got the little drunk idiot into something clean and warm, it was still only nine o’ clock. Kara was fast asleep on the sofa in the dressing room, chin tucked into the lip of Lena’s ugliest sweater, which mad her stop and realise just how right Sam was. It did indeed look like a baby mouse drowning in a marshmallow. Go figure.</p><p>“I’ll tell her sister to take her home,” Sam said, scratching her head from the middle of the staircase.</p><p>“No, no.” Lena waved it off. “It’s her bachelorette party, it’s still early. I’ll take her home. We’re going the same way anyway.” She slipped her arms under the drunk idiot, snoozing and dead to the world, and then hoisted her up off the sofa.</p><p>“Jesus you’re strong,” Sam observed.</p><p>“Odd, that’s the first time I’ve heard that tonight.” Lena smirked and carefully climbed the stairs, her hand cradling Kara’s neck. “You mind popping my trunk?” She offered her keys from her pinky.</p><p>“For your bag or for…” Sam glanced at the blonde comatose girl nuzzling into Lena’s chest. “For your bags, got it.”</p><p>***</p><p>Kara didn’t make the journey easy, and Lena didn’t mind in the slightest. She drove slowly, took the corners carefully, made sure not to rattle the snoozer too hard for fear she would either suddenly throw up again or crack her head. </p><p>Usually, Lena took the make-up off, removed the lashes, wiped away the glitter, did all of it before she left work if only for the sense of procedure. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and couldn’t help but snort at the sight. They were both in fancy dress, Kara in her little red Supergirl skirt, and Lena in… her little superhero costume. That was how it felt. When the make-up went on, when the lashes were glued down, and the hair pulled up into a sky-scraper of a ponytail, she became Elle. The two were distinctly different, and it was a hard dichotomy to explain, one that she never bothered to attempt with anyone in her personal life. Work was work, and that was that.</p><p>“Chicken nuggets?” Kara mumbled beneath her breath.</p><p>“Not on your life, little girl.” Lena snorted. “Do you remember where you live yet?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“You’ll figure it out, just try not to throw up for now.”</p><p>“Yes Ma’am.”</p><p>***</p><p>She navigated the house as though she were cradling and maneuvering a heavy box. There was no time to kick her shoes off, or switch on the lights, she had a hundred and twenty pounds of dead weight laying slack in her arms and each step up the staircase had to be taken like a scorching, thigh-burning lunge.</p><p>“Jesus Christ,” Lena puffed and hoisted the little drunk idiot up and tight against her chest as the upstairs hallway was navigated.</p><p>A small wandering hand made her stop dead in her tracks.</p><p>“Your shoulders feel so sexy,” Kara purred and drew her fingertips over the ridges of her shoulderblades, as though she knew them with some sense of familiarity.</p><p>“Thank you?” Lena didn’t know what else to say, a small grin finding its way up her cheeks.</p><p>Just like that the little idiot kissed her with slender hands either side of her cheek. It was sudden. It was curious, and gentle, and her lips pecked softly as though it were a tentatively new discovery. Kara’s lips came undone, she clutched the back of Lena’s neck so tight, as though she needed to press herself against every inch of sinewed muscle to make her head stop spinning.</p><p>“Let’s put you to bed.” Lena shook her head.</p><p>The sweater was pulled over Kara’s head, the little red skirt unzipped, the wet bra removed, all of it undertaken with the wobbler clutching at her shoulders for leverage. Lena leaned over and plumped the pillows, drew the blankets back, and then gently lifted slack legs on to the bed.</p><p>“You’re so nice,” Kara slurred and clutched the pillow, then sighed. “You… you looked so beautiful tonight. So strong. So… powerful. I, I couldn’t stop looking at you.”</p><p>Lena smiled and shook her head.</p><p>“Go to sleep, little charmer,” she urged.</p><p>She took her top off, pulled her sweatpants down, flung her panties on to the pile of laundry that was tomorrow morning’s problem. Lena stretched and felt two cornflower blue eyes stare at her through the darkness, she smiled and shook her head.</p><p>“Budge over,” she whispered.</p><p>“Oh. Erm,” Kara stopped unnaturally, as though she were stuck between a rock and a hard place. “I. I’m sorry… I’m sorry that I kissed you—” She inhaled hard. “Fuck. I’m sorry. You’re a really nice, kind, beautiful girl but I… I’m with someone.” The guilty tears started with a deep, boisterous sniffle.</p><p>Lena pinched the bridge of her nose.</p><p>“Jesus Christ,” she whispered to herself in frustration.</p><p>“I love her so much,” Kara stuttered and wept. “I shouldn’t have kissed you… you’re so beautiful but, well, I don’t want to go to bed with someone who isn’t my girlfriend if that’s alright?”</p><p>“Okay, it’s alright, don’t worry about that,” Lena placated gently, her heartstrings pulling a bit. “You didn’t do anything bad. I’m going to sleep on the sofa, you just close your eyes and shout me if you need anything.” Lena craned down and pecked her cheek.</p><p>“G’night nice stripper lady,” Kara whispered.</p><p>“Goodnight, troublemaker.”</p><p>***</p><p>Lena awoke to daylight searing through the living room blinds and a guilty, hungover figure looming pensively at the end of the sofa. Kara hovered and rubbed her bicep, finding the words and simultaneously failing.</p><p>“How much do you remember?” Lena blinked and couldn’t resist the amused grin.</p><p>“Enough to know I am never going to a wine tasting with my big sister and her friends again,” Kara said apologetically. “I am so sorry. I am so, so, so unbelievably—”</p><p>“Stop. It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay, you probably shouldn’t drink like that in future.” Lena pushed half a smile. “But it was certainly amusing having my girlfriend fall in love with me for the first time all over again.”</p><p>“In fairness you look very different when you’re doing the stripper stuff, you’ve never let me see you like that before and I wasn’t wearing my glasses—”</p><p>“Yeah but I didn’t turn into a fucking completely different person, Kara,” Lena couldn’t help but snort with laughter. “You looked at me like you would have died right there and then if you had to take your eyes away for even just a split-second.”</p><p>“I remember thinking that I needed the room to stop spinning because I wanted to do nothing but look at you,” Kara smiled.</p><p>“That’s cute, you’re still picking up breakfast when you’re sober enough to drive.”</p><p>“You might be waiting until Friday morning.”</p><p>“Your head pounding?”</p><p>“Like you would not believe,” Kara sighed and clambered over the sofa, pouting and nuzzling against her girlfriend’s warm belly. “I don’t understand why you’ve never let me see the stripper stuff before, you were… incredible, I remember that much.”</p><p>“Because I’m the top,” Lena reiterated. “And I like that you see me as... a sturdy, strong protector, who doesn’t wear platform heels and baby whore perfume.”</p><p>“You were still strong, still sturdy.” Kara humph’d and kissed her neck. “I remember you carrying me up the stairs.”</p><p>“If you ever get drunk like that again I’m leaving you on the doormat, my shoulders are killing me.” Lena scoffed.</p><p>“Can I make it up to you?” Kara pushed up and stared naughtily. “I… met this beautiful woman last night, so feminine, so strong, and I had all of these dirty thoughts and feelings, but I kicked her out of bed and… I’m kind of regretting it.”</p><p>“You know what you could really do to make it up to me?” Lena lifted her eyebrow suggestively.</p><p>“Anything Daddy,” Kara whispered and watched her slip a hand inside of the pocket of the sweatpants beside the sofa.</p><p>“Give this back to your sister,” Lena produced a hundred dollars and gently tucked it around the band of Kara’s panties. “Tell her babysitting duty is on the house when it’s my girlfriend being the little drunk idiot.”</p><p> </p><p>
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